Even the Bells
by BorbFan28
Summary: What happens when an annoyed thief and an insulted dancer have a competition of dagger wielding? Oh the shenanigans...SPOILER WARNING for Therion. Companion story to A Cleric's Private Thoughts :) Image credit to Candice Kang @DoodledStars on Twitter. Thanks so much for letting me use your artwork Candice!


Therion sighed and turned in the mirror. Staring at his reflection he rolled his eyes and shook his head. With a slump of his shoulders he grabbed the last piece of silk and tied it around his waist trying to cover as much of his midriff as possible.

"Don't forget the be-ells!" came a singsong voice from the other side of a curtain.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied in a wry tone.

_One week ago_

"Oi! Twinkle toes! Do you mind not getting your feet near my drink?" Therion moved his mug off the bar and glared up at Primrose.

"Oh, come now my sweet klepto, you can't stay mad at me." With a swish of fabric, the beautiful dancer laughed and spun off the bar into the open arms of some welcoming strangers. She lifted and moved to the center of the floor. As if preplanned, the room hushed and seemed to darken. A slow melody pierced through the quiet and Primrose began to enchant the tavern's inhabitants with her swaying movements and flexible abilities.

"Wow…" breathed Tressa next to the thief. "She is so amazing."

"She's a pain in the ass who likes to draw attention to our group," Therion replied curtly.

Tressa smiled at the thief. She knew he wasn't really angry with the dancer. He just preferred a low profile when they were in town. Rightly so due to his profession. He was the opposite of Primrose. He needed to blend in where she naturally stood out. Tressa knew that situations like this tended to bring out the surliness of Therion.

"Well not that I'm encouraging anything, but didn't you tell me it's better for your job if people are focused elsewhere?"

"True, but then if they see us together it's easy enough to add two and two. It could get the lot of us into trouble."

The merchant wanted to say that perhaps if he didn't steal at all none of this would be an issue to begin with but didn't have the courage. Their group needed Therion and no one wanted to drive him away with judgements about his life or profession. Even sweet Ophilia turned a blind eye in some circumstances. If Tressa couldn't haggle for it and there was no other means, sometimes it was necessary for the greater good for Therion to use his skillset. That didn't mean they didn't want him to find another path, but so far, his fighting skills and knowledge of the world had been invaluable. With a shrug and a pat on his shoulder Tressa moved to go sit in the corner of the tavern near Olberic and Ophilia.

Therion turned on his stool to observe his comrades. It was hard to believe they had been traveling together almost a year. Taking a long swig of his drink, he noted that the cleric and the apothecary were leaving together. With a sly grin he caught Alfyn's eye and raised his mug in a good night gesture. How he had ever become such good friends with the golden boy was beyond his comprehension. But here he was paling around with him. Alfyn had a good sense of humor and a mean swing of the ax. Therion trusted him and that was saying a lot considering his past. Honestly, he trusted everyone in the group. Even liked them though he was hard pressed to admit it to anyone. Cyrus and Olberic were steady fellows who had his back, Ophilia was the little sister he never knew he wanted, Tressa was a brat but in a slightly charming way, H'annit the commanding older sister he never knew he needed, and Primrose was like the brother he never knew could exist, but with boobs.

All the women in their party were beautiful in their own right. It might shock people to know that while he could acknowledge their beauty, he held no attraction to any of them beyond the platonic. He might tease or joke to get a rise out of them but, in all honesty, he valued them too much to cross that bridge.

Drinking down the last of his cup his mind wandered to a conversation last week when he was out hunting with Alfyn and H'annit.

"_Couldest be that thou retainst feelings unrequited?" H'aanit asked in her strange dialog._

"_I have no idea what you're talking about." Therion took that moment to throw a dagger at a rabbit killing it instantly. "What are you grinning at, doc?"_

"_H'annit, I think we have a drowning man here." Alfyn said as he laughed._

"_Howest so?" Inquired the huntress as she stroked Linde's fur._

"_He's sinking in denial!" Alfyn laughed at his own joke. H'aanit chuckled and Linde purred. _

"_You both are ridiculous. I'm not in denial. Besides, that river is from the fiction scroll section. Literary humor is beneath you Alf, leave that to the bookworm."_

"_So, you're saying you don't have ANY feelings for a sweet blonde noblewoman in Bolderfall?"_

"_I'm saying nothing on this subject."_

They were smart enough to drop it at that point. Yet another reason he got along so well with this group. He could take a joke sure but appreciated that the others knew when to give it up.

Coming back to the present he saw the other's heading towards the door calling it a night. He rose to join them thinking he was ready for sleep as well. After catching up he fell into step with Primrose on one side and Cyrus on the other.

"Great show, Primrose!" Cyrus smiled and saluted the dancer.

"Why, thank you, Professor," said Primrose with a coy glance and a shoulder tilt.

"Personally, I think if you would put half as much effort into your dagger throwing as you do showing off for those wagging tongues, you would be better off," said Therion as the rest of the group stopped to gap at him. He turned around to five pairs of eyes varying from shock, to humor, to anger.

"Excuse me?" Primrose walked up to him and for a moment he thought she might slap him. It wouldn't be the first time a woman had done so due to something he said.

"I think you heard me, twinkle toes."

"This sounden like a challenge," H'aanit commented.

Primrose glared at Therion. "Indeed, it does."

"Look, I mean no offense or whatever. It's just an observation." Therion sighed and wished he hadn't said anything at all. "I have plenty to work on myself…" he started to say in an effort to wrap up his version of an apology.

"I don't want your half-assed apology," Primrose cut him off. "I want you to back up your statement. You seem to think I'm not as good as you so please enlighten me."

The two continued to glare until Olberic stepped in. "I do believe H'aanit had the right idea. How about a challenge between you two? A dagger throwing competition. Winner picks the loser's punishment for a week. It can be friendly and maybe both of you could learn something."

"Ever the arms master, Olberic…" Therion considered meeting eyes with Primrose. "What do you think? We have some time in this town before we move on. Shall we see who could win?"

"I accept. I can't wait for the smug look to be wiped off your face."

Olberic put both hands up. "Alright then, tomorrow morning I will set up a series of challenges fit for those who wield daggers. What are your terms?"

Therion thought for a moment and then gave a mischievous grin. "If I win, you get to spend a minimum of three hours each day with Cyrus and receive a lecture on the subject of my choosing. I'm sure you could give an exquisitely detailed lecture on a whim. Right, professor?" He turned to Cyrus who looked slightly stunned.

"Well," began the scholar, "I'm not sure if I should be offended that my lecture is a punishment or flattered that you think I am so able in my profession that I could teach any subject without notice. For my academic pride, I shall choose the latter."

"Okay then…WHEN I win, you have to dance in the tavern in full dancer regalia AND give a solo performance each night for the week."

The group laughed and clapped. Therion held his hands up. "Alright, alright. You have a deal."

He rolled his eyes again and laughed when she grinned and shook his hand.

"Deal."

The rest of the walk was spent with Primrose describing how his dancing garb would look.

"I'm thinking purple silks and something very high cut," Tressa couldn't stop laughing, and even stoic Olberic had a smile. Suddenly, Primrose stopped and pointed to a bench. In an adorable display of affection Alfyn and Ophilia were sitting and holding hands. "About time," Primrose stated. The rest nodded in agreement.

The next morning, Therion woke and stretched. He never drank much in the taverns. Only enough to keep tongues loose and pockets exposed, but the dryness of his mouth made it hard to swallow. He hated feeling out of sorts in the least. It made for bad business. At least the grog last night was decent.

Stretching and rotating his torso he warmed up the muscles of his body. Ever since Darius's betrayal on that cliffside he had had some pain from his landing. Frankly, it was amazing he was alive. Ophilia chalked up to the saving grace of the Sacred Flame, and Therion wasn't so sure she was wrong. He was far from religious, but something kept him on this terra. He didn't like to dwell on it too much. All he knew was he was alive for another day and he wasn't going to let it waste when there were skills to improve and purses to lift.

A curt knock on the door and a short "Morning!" alerted him to Alfyn's arrival to his room.

"Come in," he called back as he grabbed his shirt.

"So, I hear you had some exciting dealings last night," the apothecary stated with a smile as he crossed his arms and leaned against a dresser.

"You're one to talk." Therion replied with an eyebrow raise. The blush that rose from the other man's check was just enough payoff for the thief. Alfyn wasn't easily rattled, so showing that small bit of embarrassment was a statement in and of itself. "I wasn't sure you were ever going to make a move. Thought of it once or twice myself," he continued to tease his travel companion.

"Well, shucks, had I known you were competition, I would've moved faster. Ha!" Alfyn's pleasant laugh filled the room.

"With a face like hers, you can bet ALL other men and even some women are your competition Alf."

"You ready to head out? Olberic's been waiting for 45 minutes." With a nod, the thief closed up his bag and swung it over his shoulder. The duo walked out of the inn and to a field not far out of town enjoying laugh or two at each other's expense.

"I hope you bring your best today. Although if I'm right truthful the thought of you in that dancer's getup is to funny to not root for Prim."

"I'm not going to lose. She talented in her throwing for sure but…" He trailed off as they came upon the course Olberic had set up overnight. It was intricate and worthy of the term challenge. "Did the man sleep at all?"

Tressa had come up beside the two men. "Wow," she breathed. "Hope you're ready for this, Therion." With that statement, she moved beyond them to go sit on a log with Cyrus, H'aanit, Primrose, and Ophilia.

"Good! You're both here." Olberic stood in front of the group looking more than ever like the weapons master he was. "You will see I have set up six stages with three rounds per stage. Best of three wins the stage. In various ways you will be tested for accuracy, speed, composure under pressure, stealth, distance, and distraction. Shall we begin?"

"I am ready," stated Primrose calmly.

"I'll make this quick," remarked Therion with his trademark confidence.

Two hours later both throwers sat down at a back table in the tavern to hash out the details of the punishment. The rest of the group surrounding the duo was unabashedly still laughing at the turn of events. Olberic had truly tested both of them and it was neck and neck until the very end. Then in last round based on the premise of distraction Therion made the slightest slip when Olberic himself came out in dancer's garb and made a funny little jumping kick movement that looked like a pale imitation to a move Primrose used on the regular in her performances. It was so wholly unexpected and out of character that it made Therion stagger ever so slightly. Four measly millimeters was what separated his bullseye from Prims.

"This is going to be glorious," Primrose stated with uncontained glee.

"I still don't know how the hell this happened. It was rigged," Therion mumbled.

"I assure you, on my honor, I would do no such thing." Olberic stood at his full height as if ready to defend his honor with his unbending blade.

"I know, I know… Had it been anyone else I would have thought it was a joke played on me, but you have your honor and all that…" his grumbling continued.

The conversation around Therion was taking a dangerous turn when he heard terms such as "tassels on the bodice" he could only imagine WHERE on the bodice they would go. He decided he needed to speak up and soon.

"No, no, no boob tassels thank you very much." The group roared with laughter at his outburst.

"Very well." Primrose said most obligingly. "Yes, I believe we have enough to go on right now. Perhaps your last performance we can do something a little special," The dancer considered the design she and Tressa had been working on. "I'm thinking… bells." She held out a drawing of Therion in said costume and a little bit of his soul withered away. Four measly millimeters.

So here he was standing in front of the mirror attaching bells to an all too revealing outfit. Therion couldn't help but chuckle. The week wasn't a total waste. Prim had been good enough to show him moves to not only use in the tavern but some of her skills that might help him in battle. He had to admit he was actually getting very good at the peacock strut. Who would have thought? Therion opened the curtain to see the all too eager eyes of his comrades.

"Well what do you think?" he impulsively twirled and the bells made pleasant tinkling sounds. "Am I ready for my final performance and end of my dancing career."

"Well," the small voice of the groups sweet cleric rang out, "Personally, I think you never looked better." Ophilia laughed and blushed at her boldness as she was still unaccustomed to teasing others.

"You're all terrible influences on our good Sister." Therion shook his head and headed towards the stage. The rest of the party looked at each other and laughed at the irony of his statement.


End file.
